


grow as we go

by simplerushes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Canon Compliant, it's a lot of yearning but that's part of the package i guess, it's complicated - Freeform, oh my god they were roommates, to nobody's surprise: atsumu is in love and won't say anything about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25177015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplerushes/pseuds/simplerushes
Summary: Not everything has to be complicated, it just has to make sense, and Shouyou, well, Shouyou kinda makes perfect sense.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, blink and you'll miss it: suna/osamu
Comments: 32
Kudos: 284





	grow as we go

**Author's Note:**

> songs:
> 
> it'll work itself out - donovan woods  
> sudden love - woodlands  
> cherry win - hozier  
> fly - meadowlark  
> the time i've wasted - lori mckenna  
> sunscreen - ira wolf
> 
> \--

The thing is, Atsumu and Shouyou are friends.

Scratch that, Atsumu and Shouyou are best friends, and they’re okay. Great, even. 

And it’s not supposed to be complicated because they’re best friends and being friends with someone should be easy and wonderful, so when Shouyou asked him if he wanted to move in with him, Atsumu said yes, because they’re friends and being friends with someone shouldn’t be too difficult. It should be easy.

Except it really isn’t, because Atsumu and Shouyou, well, it’s kinda complicated. 

△

Their apartment is a different story.

Alright, alright,  _ listen _ , their apartment has character, is what Shouyou always tells him when Atsumu walks through the door and bumps his hip on a misplaced end table that’s standing right in the middle of the walkway.  _ It has character _ , is what Shouyou will laugh at him when Atsumu complains about the creaking and how the heater is completely unreliable.  _ It has character _ , is what Shouyou will say again with a smile, looking at him from his spot on the couch, blankets draped over his shoulders and hair a mess. 

“It has character but it still sucks,” Atsumu finally relents, stomping over to cross the small space between the door and the living room, and Shouyou just laughs at him but he moves automatically, lifting the blanket up as a silent invitation that Atsumu takes with barely a second thought. 

So maybe the end tables in all the odd places isn’t so bad, and the faulty heater has a few advantages, too, because if their apartment didn’t have character then Atsumu wouldn’t be swimming in a sea of blankets with Shouyou humming happily by his side, eyes half closed and head pillowed on Atsumu’s shoulder. 

So their apartment has character and it’s not exactly as complicated as Atsumu and Shouyou, because nothing is more complicated than the way Atsumu just kind of wants to stay next to him for the rest of the afternoon, just fall asleep by his side, Shouyou so warm, warm, warm, and smelling like a mixture of coffee and citrus, and that’s an odd combination, coffee and orange juice, but Atsumu likes it. 

Atsumu likes the way Shouyou smells and he’s fine with that truth because not everything has to be complicated, it just has to make sense, and Shouyou, well, Shouyou kinda makes perfect sense.

△

Atsumu part-times at a coffee shop while Shouyou works at a little bistro at the opposite side of town. They’re both still in university and it’s not so bad, being in the big city. Atsumu likes it enough although if you ask him if he’d ever felt scared going out on his own then he’ll lie through his teeth but Shouyou, well, Shouyou will laugh, a little bit too loud and a little bit too big and say that of course Atsumu was scared of going out on his own,  _ of course _ . 

But Atsumu remembers their first night in the city, remembers looking out of the window and down their street that definitely isn’t picture perfect but it’s good, it’s nice enough, and he remembers feeling--well, he remembers feeling warm. 

It had been smack dab in the middle of autumn and Atsumu had felt warm, arms crossed as he watched Shouyou bounce up the front steps of their apartment, his hair tucked underneath a cap as the wind blew orange leaves down the street. Atsumu remembers watching Shouyou walk through the door, shivering, already complaining about how cold Tokyo is but stopping when he saw Atsumu by the window.

And he doesn’t remember how he looked like but he must’ve looked bored, probably, because Shouyou had shrugged back into his coat again, grabbed his hand, and dragged him right out the door, because Tokyo was cold that year but it wasn’t too bad, not when months later--years, even--Atsumu can still remember how it had felt to hold Shouyou’s hand and squeeze. 

△

So maybe it’s not exactly as easy as Atsumu wants it to sound and maybe he won’t admit it to anyone--not even when Osamu calls him asking about how things are with Shouyou and all Atsumu can do is tell him to shut the fuck up, please, things are not going at all because they’re not supposed to be going anywhere--but yeah, he kind of has feelings. 

Maybe just a little bit.

Or maybe it’s a lot.

But it’s there and he doesn’t want to actually put a name on it or even acknowledge it most days, but there’s always a tugging in his heart whenever he walks out of the room and finds Shouyou already behind the kitchen counter, preparing a passable breakfast for the both of them. Feels a tugging in his heart whenever their fingers brush on the short walk down the corridor to the elevator, or, god forbid, when their arms press together when one too many people try to squeeze into their poor, terribly dangerous elevator. 

So his heart does a thing and Atsumu sometimes has to remind himself not to hold his breath.

“Don’t hold your breath,” Atsumu hisses into the call, already seconds away from hanging up because Osamu always likes to rile him up like this. Knows what to press and how hard to get a reaction from him. 

“Maybe,” Osamu snickers, voice sounding a bit far away from the phone. Despite how annoying his brother can be, Atsumu enjoys these calls with him. He kind of misses his twin but that’s never going to be something that he’ll admit out loud. Like, absolutely  _ never _ . 

The phone call ends when Shouyou walks through the door, keys jingling in his hand. It’s the middle of summer and Shouyou has always looked great in the summer--tan skin, bright hair, and eyes that seem to match the intensity of the sun, and god- _ god _ , Shouyou grins at him, then, all bright and wonderful, and Atsumu nearly forgets that Osamu is still on the phone when he hears Osamu sigh very loudly into his ear and say, 

“You need to breathe, ‘Sumu,” 

Atsumu breathes.

Shouyou bounds up to his spot on the couch and looks almost disappointed when Atsumu tucks his phone back into his pocket.

“Hey, I wanted to say hi,” Shouyou says, bumping their shoulders together.

Atsumu snaps out of his little daze and looks down to meet Shouyou’s gaze. 

He smiles, “Hello.” 

Shouyou rolls his eyes but he follows along anyway, absolutely  _ annoyed _ but not at all surprised anymore and just says, “Hi.” 

△

This is how they function in their barely functioning apartment unit. 

Shouyou wakes up early most days to go for a run before slipping quietly back inside to prepare for school.

Atsumu sleeps in until the afternoon on days he doesn’t work at the cafe. On days where he has class early in the morning, Shouyou shakes him awake, voice close and far too loud in his ear. 

On very rare days, when sleep overtakes any rational part of his brain, Atsumu throws his arms around Shouyou and drags him into bed with him, and it never ends the way Atsumu wants it to end because he isn’t sure  _ what _ he wants to do with Shouyou all tangled in his sheets, but it always ends with a lot of grumbling followed by loud laughter from the both of them, hair a mess and limbs tangled, and Atsumu hanging off the corner of the bed.

Sometimes,  _ sometimes,  _ it ends with Shouyou in his arms, head tucked into the crook between Atsumu’s neck and shoulder. On these kinds of mornings, Atsumu breathes in deep and then reaches up to pinch Shouyou’s cheeks, breaking the spell, because someone has to or else Shouyou will see it clear as day in his eyes. 

“I’m up, I’m up,” Atsumu grumbles, breaking free from Shouyou, who just rolls to the other side of the bed. “God, you’re annoying,” 

Shouyou stares up at the ceiling. “So are you,” 

“And water is wet.” Atsumu throws a pillow at him and Shouyou throws another one back. 

Days like these are far and few in between but it always leaves Atsumu craving for more, and that’s not even complicated anymore. It’s absolutely stupid. 

△

Fridays are busy for them because they both work the afternoon and evening shifts. They both end up stumbling back home tired, barely able to even say anything on some of the rougher days. 

But Shouyou always smiles at him and asks if he’d pissed off any of his customers and in turn Atsumu just laughs and tells him, “Yes, about five today, what’s your record?”

“Maybe like two and a half,” Shouyou says, already rummaging through the fridge for something to eat that probably isn’t Italian because while the bistro he works at serves pretty good food, Italian for five straight nights in a row can get old. 

“And a half?”

Shouyou emerges from behind the kitchen door with a few containers of take-out and some dishes his mother had left over the last weekend.

“Yeah,” Shouyou absolutely beams. “It was a kid,”

Atsumu laughs the ugliest laugh he’s ever laughed and he wonders just how Shouyou hasn’t seen it yet but god, he’s thankful. He really is, because there’s no way he can keep this--he can keep Shouyou if he finds out. 

“Bet he thought you were the same age, probably,” It’s a stupid little counter to Shouyou’s joke but it gets a rise out of him anyway, Shouyou glaring at him, chopsticks already gripped tightly in his hand.

“Okay,  _ listen _ ,” Shouyou starts, voice rising. “I was taller than him.” 

Atsumu nearly falls off the couch. 

Shouyou just snickers. 

And see--

_ See _ , it’s not hard, isn’t it, to be friends with Shouyou?

△

Autumn ends and Atsumu already misses the leaves--orange and brown and like they had caught on fire. 

He looks at Shouyou and thinks the same, like he’s on fire. Burning bright. A flame too hot Atsumu can’t hold onto it forever, but god will he try. And he tries so hard. 

“It’s about to get real cold again,” Shouyou says, staring out at their open window.

Perhaps this is one of the last days where they can do that. Before the cold finally settles and sinks deep into his bones, slipping in through the cracks and overtaking him entirely from the inside out. 

But then again, Atsumu doesn’t mind the cold too much, not when Shouyou is right next to him, burning bright, warm, and golden. 

“I don’t mind,” Atsumu finds that he really doesn’t. The cold isn’t so bad. Not really. 

“The first winter we spent here, you spent every single day complaining about the heater--” 

“Okay, and it was  _ valid _ ,” Atsumu bites back, remembering how fucking cold it had been. “You were cold, too,”

“I mean I was, but I didn’t complain every single waking moment,” 

Which, now that Atsumu thinks about it, he probably did. Yeah. 

“We had so many chances to move out of this dump,” Atsumu leans against Shouyou, hips bumping together. It’s warm. It always is. 

Shouyou welcomes his weight, steadies himself to keep the both of them upright and standing, letting the chilly autumn air brush at their cheeks, the sound of the street below them much quieter now that the sun is starting to set. 

“I like our apartment,” Shouyou looks away from the small grocer’s tucked between a flower shop and a bookstore to look up at Atsumu. 

Atsumu looks away immediately, fingers tightening around the ledge of the window.

“It has character,” Atsumu finally says, a hard smile on his face.

“I like that word,” Shouyou says, an odd lilt to his voice. “Character.” 

“You’re quite the character,” Atsumu slips away from Shouyou then, the smile on his face harder than he wants it to be because it’s difficult, being so close to Shouyou and feeling like it isn’t enough, like he’s the most selfish man on the planet. Absolutely ungrateful. 

“Not bad,” Shouyou hasn’t moved from the windows at all. Over the years, he’s gotten more used to the cold. 

Atsumu thinks he has, too, or perhaps he’s more used to living with the sun, because he’s always liked summer the best. 

“Am I your favorite character?” Shouyou’s teasing, Atsumu knows that, but he’s already halfway across the apartment. 

“Am I?” Atsumu counters, looking over his shoulder. 

It’s a mistake, it’s a mistake, it’s always a mistake to look Shouyou directly in the eye when this happens, when he feels like his heart might just overtake his lungs in size. It’s a mistake and yet he risks it.

“Sure,” Shouyou beams. “You’re my best friend.” 

It’s the final nail in the coffin.

Atsumu laughs, a bit too dryly.

“Yeah, okay, I can live with that.” 

And it’s not exactly a lie.

He  _ can _ live with it. The only problem is that it’s going to be absolutely fucking painful.

△

So living with Shouyou isn’t exactly a field of roses but Atsumu’s already accepted that.

It’s complicated.

They’re complicated.

But Shouyou?

Shouyou, who rouses him from sleep for his ungodly eight a.m class, fringe slightly overgrown and falling in front of his eyes, cheeks a bit flushed from his morning run, and his smile small, something easy to start Atsumu’s day. 

Shouyou isn’t complicated at all. 

“You’re already awake,” Shouyou says, fingers squeezing at Atsumu’s shoulder. “This is new.”

Atsumu sighs under Shouyou’s gaze, eyes closing briefly. 

He smiles. 

“Just think today’s going to be a good day, s’all,”

“I mean, you do have an exam in the next hour, so I would rethink that,” Shouyou laughs, soft and quiet because it’s still early, the city barely awake yet. 

When Atsumu opens his eyes, he finds Shouyou staring at him, a smile playing across his lips, and Atsumu--

Atsumu kinda just looks at him and aches. 

△

They see their friends on the weekends sometimes. 

Shouyou goes off with some of his old high school buddies while Atsumu rings Suna and his own brother up and forces them to hang out with him because the apartment is too cold with their busted heating system and with Shouyou out and about until late into the morning. It’s too cold and Atsumu hates the cold, if he was being perfectly honest. 

(And if he was even being  _ more _ honest then yeah, he’ll admit that he only really ever hates the cold when he’s alone. But it’s. It’s something else, okay. It’s something else.)

“Are you really just going to leech off of us?” Suna grumbles from across the table. 

Atsumu just downs his drink a little bit too quickly, given how early it is. 

Suna glances at Osamu next to him and they share a look. 

“It’s one of those nights, unfortunately,” Osamu tops Atsumu’s drink up and kicks his twin under the table. “We’re not paying for all of this,”

“I mean, you say that now,” Atsumu grimaces at them.

Osamu looks like he’s ready to jump across the table and throttle his brother to the ground if only to knock some sense into him but instead he just shakes his head and sighs. Osamu will let him get away with it tonight because Atsumu needs it, because winter is cold and dark and Atsumu’s bones rattle from every cold wind that blows against him. Atsumu aches from the inside out. 

The night is spent with a lot of idle chatter, mainly just Osamu and Atsumu sniping at each other while Suna sits back, watching the chaos that is the Miya twins. Two separate storms clashing. 

But that’s the thing about storms, isn’t it. Once it passes, there is only calm.

And the night ends calmly, with Osamu and Suna dropping Atsumu on the doorstep of their apartment. 

Atsumu can hear Osamu talking to someone on the phone. His brother sounds cheery enough for someone who’d paid for the whole night’s events. 

Later, when his mind clears and he starts to think about the night’s events, he realizes that he probably ruined what could have been a date but that’s really a conversation for another day, a storm for the next season.

Before he can even wave them off and start his way up the steps, he sees Shouyou shove past the doors, coat hanging too loosely around his shoulders, and hair a mess, like he’d just been face first into his own bed. 

“I’m fine,” Atsumu directs this to Osamu, who just shrugs his shoulders. 

Shouyou clamps a hand around Atsumu’s arm to help steady him. “Are you drunk?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Suna says, now looking more amused than he’d been the whole night. 

“Sorry,” Shouyou apologizes to them with a little bow. 

Osamu rolls his eyes. “That’s my brother, it’s already expected, I guess,”

But Shouyou still looks sheepish and Atsumu kinda wants to just wrap him up in a hug but not here, not now, because there is no way he’s giving Osamu and Suna the satisfaction, not after they’d spent the whole night just laughing at him. 

“Well, we’ll be off, then,” Suna waves at them and Osamu falls into step beside him, and if Atsumu had looked more closely then perhaps he would have noticed just how much their fingers brushed as they walked away but Atsumu can’t have noticed that, not when Shouyou’s got an arm around his waist. Not when Shouyou’s pressed against his side the whole walk back up to their apartment. 

For a second, Atsumu thinks he might slip.

It’s only for a second, because he might be drunk and he might be stupid on occasion but he’s not exactly reckless, is he? He isn’t, so he holds it in until they make it past the door. 

Shouyou doesn’t let go of him until they’re both plopped on the couch, Atsumu instantly curling into Shouyou’s side, arm flung across his middle, holding onto him. Holding him close. 

“You okay?” Shouyou asks, fingers grazing over Atsumu’s arm. It’s electrifying. 

“Yes,” Atsumu murmurs, eyes heavy. 

Shouyou hooks a finger under his chin, tilting his head up so he can get a better look at him.

Atsumu has no choice but to meet his gaze, or else, or else,  _ or else _ .

“Are you okay?” Shouyou repeats, and Atsumu hears what Shouyou doesn’t say-- _ you don’t really drink like this, this isn’t normal.  _

There are moments that last the span of a few seconds but feel like minutes, stretched end to end until they start to feel like hours, and then days melting into each other. There are moments that stretch on for what seems like an eternity. 

Atsumu’s fingers find Shouyou’s wrist. 

This is a second.

A minute.

An hour.

An eternity.

It is a moment. 

“Always,” Atsumu finds himself smiling this time, because it is not a lie. Because he can’t lie when Shouyou’s looking at him with wide eyes and an earnest look on his face. He cannot lie. “I’m absolutely perfect.”

A second passes, and then a minute, and then maybe even an hour, but then the moment is over and Shouyou laughs a bark of a laugh and says, tender, fond, and painful, “You’re absolutely stupid, is what you are.”

△

This is a day--

A Sunday in December. An afternoon. It’s snowing. It’s been snowing for a few days, now. Shouyou likes it. Likes being all bundled up and drowning in his jacket and layers.

Atsumu hates the winter but he likes Shouyou enough. Or too much. 

Enough.  _ Enough _ . 

“Let’s go watch a movie,” Shouyou declares, looping a scarf around his neck. 

Atsumu follows along, because it’s hard to deny Shouyou of anything when he starts to bounce, when he laughs and urges Atsumu out of bed and into a fresh set of clothes and then out into the cold streets for a few minutes before they’re squished next to strangers on the train. 

“Tell me about this movie,” Atsumu says, already picking away at the popcorn. 

“It’s one of those international movies, really famous, I think,” Shouyou isn’t wrong. It’s a famous movie. There’s a lot of people waiting in line but they manage to find their way to their seats and along the way Shouyou somehow managed to steal the popcorn away from him, so there’s that. 

The movie isn’t half bad, just not something he’s into. A bit too much talking and too little on the action side. He’d thought Shouyou would fall asleep halfway through given how excited he had been about the action in this movie (surprise, surprise, there is  _ no _ action) but Shouyou had watched the whole thing, eyes peeled on the screen. 

Atsumu feels himself starting to lose interest but he keeps himself awake if only to talk to Shouyou about it after because while it hadn’t been the kind of movie they’d both expected, it doesn’t look like Shouyou’s any less interested. So he stays awake the whole time and nearly jumps out of his seat when the protagonist yells out a drunken confession. 

It is a Sunday afternoon. Cold and completely normal for the both of them but it is still  _ the _ Sunday afternoon when Atsumu realizes that he’d been one second away from a drunken confession, that one evening weeks ago. 

He goes stiff in his seat and Shouyou must notice because he takes his eyes off the screen to look at him, leaning in close to ask if anything’s the matter. 

Shouyou’s hand is on top of his. 

Atsumu turns his palm over, surprising even himself at the sudden movement. 

Shouyou isn’t surprised at all. Doesn’t even pull away. Instead he slips his fingers through the spaces between Atsumu’s and gives a squeeze. 

Atsumu squeezes back. 

Nothing on screen registers until Shouyou slips his hand out of his and starts to pick through the popcorn again, and everything starts to zero in on how warm Atsumu’s cheeks are. 

It is a Sunday and it’s not as cold as he thought it was going to be. 

△

This is an hour--

Another early morning, but this time instead of Shouyou waking Atsumu up, it’s the other way around.

Shouyou has been sick for the past couple of days. He’s stayed in bed the whole time, grumbling and groaning and absolutely miserable because he hasn’t gone out at all.

Atsumu picks his way across the dark apartment, knee bumping against another out of place chair before he finds himself inside Shouyou’s room, dark except for a sliver of sunshine through the gap in his curtains. 

“Shoyou,” Atsumu calls quietly, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat,” 

Shouyou just rolls over to his other side. He’s awake, Atsumu knows this. 

“It’s the weekend,” Shouyou grumbles from under the covers.

“You need to eat,” Atsumu says, voice taking on a more pleading tone. “And then we’ll get you to a doctor, just a quick check-up, alright?”

Shouyou shakes his head. “No, thanks,”

Atsumu snorts out a laugh that’s too loud for seven in the morning. “That’s not something you can say no to,”

“I can and I did,” 

“Okay, and I’m older than you so you need to listen--” 

It’s Shouyou’s turn to laugh at him. “Now you’re using the age card?”

“Yeah, or else we’re not going to get anything done today--” 

“Okay, what about this, then?” Shouyou peeks out from his cocoon of warm and thick blankets to look at him. 

Suddenly, the space between them is an ocean of sheets and moments, days and hours, minutes and seconds. A whole lifetime. 

“What?” Atsumu knows he shouldn’t, but he leans forward. 

Shouyou turns his blanket over and it’s as sure an invitation as the sun is shining outside. Atsumu knows he shouldn’t but Shouyou has been sick for days and if this gets him eating more than a few spoonfuls of soup and mush then he’ll take it as a lifeline. He slips under the covers with him.

“Just a few more minutes,” Shouyou practically begs him, taking on that sugar sweet tone he always does when he wants to get his way. God, even when sick the puppy dog eyes still work on Atsumu. It’s awful. “And then we’ll eat and go to the doctor, or whatever,”

“Or whatever,” Atsumu almost smirks, feeling his cheeks start to heat up. They’re so close under the covers, Shouyou pressed close to him. 

Shouyou scoots even closer, head pillowed on Atsumu’s chest, and arm wrapped around his middle, holding him in place. Holding him close.

For a second, Atsumu wants to tell him that he doesn’t have to hold on too tightly because he isn’t going anywhere, that there’s no force on this good Earth that will rip him away from the boy who’s ran through his mind in his dreams and whose smile occupies his thoughts every waking moment. There is nothing that can tear him away from this. 

So he gives in, huffs a breath into Shouyou’s hair and pulls him closer against his chest. “Only for ten minutes.” 

They end up sleeping for an hour and Atsumu wakes up certain that there is a name for this, and that he is ready to acknowledge it.

Atsumu is in love with his best friend. 

△

This is a minute--

They’re at the bookstore just a few minutes away from their apartment. It looks like it’s about to rain which is just going to be amazing, not like Atsumu hasn’t been frozen for the better part of an hour, anyway. 

But Shouyou takes his time because even if it does rain, their apartment isn’t too far, they can make it. 

“Shouyou,” Atsumu whines, bored with the book he’d tried to flip over. “It’s going to rain and I hate being wet and cold and if I get sick and die then it’s on you,”

Shouyou ignores him outright as he heads over to the till to pay for the books. Waits patiently as the old lady behind the counter wraps it in paper and smiles as brightly as he does when she hands it over to him with a cheery little,  _ Take care, boy. _

The clouds are darker when they step outside of the bookstore. 

Atsumu feels the first few drops of rain against his cheek and he curses. 

Shouyou looks up at him, eyes wide. “My books,” 

“I hate your books,” Atsumu tells him, but he snatches them out of Shouyou’s hands and tucks it underneath his coat, the rain already falling in earnest.

Shouyou’s fingers close around Atsumu’s wrist and Atsumu nearly falters in his steps but then Shouyou is pulling him along, the both of them running down the block to sprint back to their apartment.

They barely make it before it starts to fucking  _ pour _ outside. 

Atsumu breathes a sigh of relief.

Shouyou laughs, a bit giddy. 

It doesn’t take too long until Atsumu finds himself laughing, too. 

They stumble back into their apartment in fits and giggles. 

Shouyou shakes the water out of his eyes and then tugs on Atsumu’s wrist--and it had felt so normal, like everything was in place the whole time that Atsumu hadn’t thought too much about it, and perhaps this is what happens when you ache so much. This is how you get used to it. You just learn to live with it. 

Atsumu spins straight into Shouyou’s orbit and he allows himself to look at him, if only for a minute. 

Just one minute.

They’re so close he can see drops of water clinging to the tips of Shouyou’s eyelashes. So close that all Atsumu needs to close the gap between them is to lean down, but he doesn’t, instead, he just grins at Shouyou and gives him back his books. The paper packaging is a bit damp but the books are intact. Barely a drop on them. 

Shouyou beams at him, much like a star would twinkle at its moon, at all times of the day. 

“Alright, alright, you can say it,” Atsumu tries to fight the obvious need to want more from Shouyou and instead flashes him a smile. 

Instead of a snappy remark or maybe even a far too dramatic spiel about running through the rain, Shouyou just squeezes at Atsumu’s wrist and smiles softly, “Thank you.” 

Atsumu feels his heart skip a beat.

Or two.

△

This is a second--

It’s ass o’clock in the morning after a particularly hard day of exams and Atsumu is woken up by pots and pans clicking around in the kitchen. He fights the urge to go back to sleep because Shouyou cooking should be an urgent matter to attend to, so he pads out of his bedroom, hair a mess and hand scrubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Shouyou is standing on his tiptoes, trying to reach a corner from the highest cupboard.

Atsumu doesn’t fight the urge to laugh, so he does, startling Shouyou from his little quest.

He’s there before Shouyou can stumble back or lose his balance, Atsumu moving quickly, hands settling on either side of Shouyou’s hips to steady him.

“I’ll get it for you,” Atsumu says, planting Shouyou firmly on the floor. He leans forward, hand reaching out to the back of the cabinet to look for the one specific frying pan Shouyou apparently needed to make perfect  _ after exams pancakes _ (they’re never exactly perfect, sometimes there’s too much chocolate chips, sometimes it’s too burnt, but they always have them after exams and the moment itself is perfect, burnt pancakes and all. It’s perfect.). Atsumu finds the frying pan with a little  _ Aha! _ that has Shouyou laughing at him. 

He sets the pan down somewhere to the side and it’s only when he closes the cabinets that he realizes just how close they are. 

His hand falls from Shouyou’s hips just as Shouyou turns around to look at him, eyes wide, hair a mess, and a grin already playing across his lips. 

But Atsumu must have faltered, because it only takes a second. Anyone will only need a second to confirm, to know, because the smile falls from Shouyou’s lips and instead his mouth opens into a small little  _ oh _ , and it’s over.

It’s over. 

Atsumu steps away from him, because it’s all over his face. He hadn’t had time to look away. To laugh it off. It’s over in a second.

Years. A whole lifetime. Over in a second. 

“Oh,” Shouyou says, this time much louder, jostling Atsumu out of the storm in his own mind. “Oh, Atsumu,”

“No, no,” Atsumu says, both hands raised as if in defence, in denial, but it’s too late. It’s too obvious. It’s written all over his face and on the sleeve of his shirt, because Atsumu has always worn his heart on his sleeve and now it’s beating out of control. “Shouyou, listen, you have to listen--”

But Shouyou just takes Atsumu’s hands in his, slips his fingers through the spaces, and squeezes down, hard. Hard enough to snap Atsumu out of it. 

“Breathe,” Shouyou tells him, drawing closer. “Come on, just breathe,”

And Atsumu does. He breathes. He lets out a shaky breath, eyes looking everywhere else but at Shouyou, because he doesn’t want this to be the last time. He doesn’t want this to be the end. 

“Look at me,” Shouyou urges him. 

It takes all that he has for Atsumu to look at him, to meet his gaze. There is no shock in Shouyou’s eyes, no disdain, no disgust. It is the same as it always has been. Wide, bright, and warm. 

“Come on,” Shouyou is smiling at him, thumb rubbing small, comforting circles over the inside of Atsumu’s wrist, now. “You can say it. I’ll listen.” 

And this--this is a moment.

This is the moment.

“Shouyou,” Atsumu’s voice is unsteady, and he feels like he’s not taking in enough air but then Shouyou squeezes on his hand and he’s grounded again, and Atsumu tries. He tries. “I’ve been in love with you for the longest time.” 

A moment could be a second, a minute, an hour, it could be years, and a lifetime.

This moment feels like it stretches across all forms of time and then back again, but then Shouyou smiles, he actually smiles, cheeks rosy, and says, “Yeah?” 

And it takes Atsumu another moment to realize that this can only go one way, now. With Shouyou holding on to him like he hasn’t the slightest intention of letting go. And Atsumu realizes that it’s always been that way, that Shouyou has held on to him tightly throughout the years, that Atsumu has never left him, has no intention of leaving him. 

So he ducks his head and leans down to knock their foreheads together. 

“Yeah, is that a problem?” 

Shouyou has to lean in closer, tilt his head just that little bit higher to brush their noses together, and god, if Atsumu doesn’t die now then he’ll die later. But for now, for now he has this. He will hold on to this. 

“Not really,” Shouyou says, almost laughing. “I mean, thank god for that, I guess, because I’m kinda in love with you, too, so-”

“What, only  _ kinda _ ?” Atsumu is still a bit shaky on his feet, his laughter sounding foreign to his ears the same way  _ love _ had when he heard it out of his own mouth. When Shouyou had used the very same word. 

“Sure, kinda is a lot,” Shouyou’s beaming up at him and this time, it doesn’t take Atsumu even a moment. 

His fingers touch Shouyou’s cheek briefly, wanting, wanting,  _ wanting _ , and the only difference this time is that now Atsumu can see the want so clearly visible in Shouyou’s eyes. He cups Shouyou’s cheek in his hand, closes the distance between them, and kisses him.

A kiss can last for a moment and moments can stretch across a whole lifetime. 

When they pull apart, Shouyou’s laugh washes over him like waves. 

Atsumu kisses him again, just because he’s always wanted to and he can, now. And he can still hear it, the sound of Shouyou’s laugh, sweet, sweet music in his ears. 

Shouyou tastes a lot like summer and that’s not complicated at all because Atsumu has always loved the summer. 

△

So, Atsumu and Shouyou, apparently not as complicated as it was supposed to be. 

And their apartment with the rickety elevator and the floorboards that creak and groan all throughout the night, with the faulty air conditioning and heating system?

It’s home. 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on twt if you want to talk or just cry over atsuhina (which i've been doing an awful lot these past few days). @bluexide
> 
> anyway, let me know what you think. thanks. x


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